Sunday, April 30, 2006

Thoughts, swirling and drifting

I want to let them spin around, gently through my head like a snow globe...
each one illuminated for a moment--
the look I gave that man on his Harley,
and the chill I got a few minutes later when he drove through the parking lot I had been turning into,
slowly driving and looking.
Moments like that remind me that my gawking is far less sincere than I think it is--
I may give a look that says, "I want you to fuck me right NOW."
but...that would just be silly.
The next snowflake of this day is a soft and growing thought,
I line being drawn on a sidewalk by a patient hand...
It was the thought that brought me here, to my log-in page, to my dashboard, to this
I was thinking about...
You are sand slipping through my fingers.
The words stay inside me, still tumbling, out of order, but...
Suddenly the hand holding the chalk is tired; the line ends.
More snowflakes, drifting down...
It's not even 9 and I think I may go to bed.
sleepy girl.

The pictures from our Roman party got corrupted on my camera, so I'll have to throw on the ole costume and take some more.
The party was a lot of fun.
I drank too much wine,
and in the morning as I lay dozing myself into a waking state,
the words, "drink, drank, drunk," ran through my head.
Which led t, "think, thank, thunk, spink, spank, spunk"...the latter of which made me giggle like a maniac.

Oh, Mr. husband read the post I wrote about his father and informed me that I was wrong about his reason for the invitation:
he simply thought it would be a waste of money for his Dad to stay in a hotel for 3 nights.
I'll still believe that deep down, somewhere inside him, he cares what his dad thinks.
I may have been a bit tipsy on Friday night when the Father in law came home,
and I might possibly have told him that if he ever needed any marital advice that he should ask my husband, because he has it all figured out...
This might have been a rude thing to say to someone who's hurtling into marriage #4 and his 60th birthday at mach speed.
I meant it nicely, although...
Which reminds me: it feels strange to call him "father in law" (and not just because I left the hyphens out. Do you know how hard it is to hit the hyphen with tiny little hands like mine???).
I even hesitated to introduce him to my kids as "grandpa".
And the feelings it bore in me were only whispers of what it feels like for his children.
I, at least, have the option of never letting my kids know that he matters.
They have 3 grandparents who love them, and that's more than I had.
Mine all hated me, somewhat inexplicably.
Juuuuuuuuuust kidding.
My grandfathers both died during the 5 years or so before I was born and my maternal grandmother lived on the opposite coast from us, so I only saw her a handful of times before she died, which was when I was 8 or 9.
(this is what happens when you're the youngest of a youngest)
My Grammie, though, she lived next door to us until I was 9 and we only moved a couple of miles away, and had a tradition of going over to visit her every Sunday evening.
She would bake something yummy for us and my sister and I would sit quietly while the grownups talked, looking forward to the end-of-evening treat.
I could write a whole book about her.
An amazing woman.

(Monday morning)
I think I was even more scattered in my train of thought last night, so my apologies.

It was a fabulous weekend, but hubby is gone again, leaving me in custody of SIX boxes of Girl Scout Cookies.
Oh, I'm the dumbass that ordered them, but supporting the troup seemed like such a good idea.
It wasn't.
I meant to send some home with the step-son yesterday, but I forgot--probably it was subconsciously intentional.
Speaking of the step son...
I guess we're heading into court again soon, to figure out this custody thing.
Hubby thinks the new lawyer is good, and his ex is still lying about stuff in the court documents, which sort of cracks me up.
I think we'll be fine.
All they need to do is send out the custody evaluator.
We win, hands down.

Happy Monday, to those of you in my quadrant of the earth.
Midnight tonight, I will be able to download Pearl Jam's new album...
and it should arrive in the mail shortly.

Breakfast of champions!

I'm sure the champion of something eats pizza and Girl Scout Cookies for breakfast...
It's the voo-doo cure for a hangover.
I don't quite have a hangover, for some reason,
but I think it's important to nip those sorts of things in the bud.

As for the guffaw-heavy audio post, yes, we were having a fantastic time.
We had been helping my other best friend move--
3 women carried
2 beds,
4 bookcases,
1 large coffee table,
1 small kitchen table/chairs,
1 desk,
2 awkwardly shaped night stands,
and 1 large couch
down the stairs and into the U-Haul.
Everything was packed in verrrrry nicely, I might add.
We did that in under an hour, even.
So then we headed toward her new place, caravan style.
Becky and I called our other friend who was watching all 4 of our kids and discovered that we didn't have enough time to go to the new apartment before she had to leave for a previous engagement, so we changed our route.
The furniture was going north about 30 miles, and our kids were east and a little south, about 12 miles (ha! I just mapquested it; it's 11.59 miles. I kick ASS.)
So...when we made the audio post, we were about halfway to our destination and the furniture had already reached its!
Therefore, our silliness was circumstantial.
Oh, and the fact that the two of us act like a couple of drunken spazzes most of the time, anyway.
Even more amazing than the 3 of us removing all that furniture from the old condo is the fact that J. moved all but the beds and couch into the new place--a third floor walk up--by herself.
She's the man, man.

Today I feel like being manipulated by the beautiful music
at a beautiful moment
of a slightly cheeserific movie.
Not sure why, but that's my mood.

Roman murder party was awesome.
My costume came out so much better than I thought it was going to for a few minutes there...
I ended up wearing it upside down, in fact.

More later.
Time to bowl.
Then off to the river for a walk.

Friday, April 28, 2006

this is an audio post - click to play

Jinxed, yet again!

This time I'm blaming you guys.
For accusing me of having a wonderful life.
That's right:
it's your collective fault that my father-in-law is due to arrive here any moment.
You see...
Cameron (the spousal unit) is not in town.
He's gone until Saturday.
But this afternoon I got a call from one of his brothers asking if I knew their father was coming to town and that Cameron had offered our guest room to him.
Um, nope.
So, anyway.
You have to understand that I've only met this man a couple of times,
and have never been able to get past the fact that he abandoned his 6 sons.
One of them only months old,
all of them left in the care of the psychotic woman he was leaving.
It's just kindn of weird.
I'm supposed to be all cheerful and gracious and stuff.
But all I can think of is how amazing all of his sons are and how little of that came from him.
He's a dumbass, they're all very bright.
He's tall, but then so is their mother's family.
That's it.
That's all I have for ya.
He didn't teach any of them anything except how not to treat your family.
A valuable lesson, to be sure.
Sadly, some of them didn't really learn that lesson.
So anyway back to the current situation...
I am finally sitting down after spending my ENTIRE evening making preparations for his arrival.
I had PLANNED on making our costumes for the damn Roman party.
But I guess I can do that on Saturday.
I'm really not bitching here, I am just sort of in awe of the situation.
It's a peculiar one.
Especially considering that my husband isn't even here!
His brother is living with us,
so I told him he's in charge of entertainment.

Today I searched for 18 year old Scotch and not 18 year old cigars.
I didn't find either, but there is hope.

I have 3 sets of plans for tomorrow, each of which conflicts somewhat with the other,
but I don't care.
I just wish I had a nanny.

I hate sitting around waiting for someone to arrive,
when I have other things I want to be doing.
Someone else's guest, even.
I'm terrible.
At first I wondered why my husband would insist his father stay here,
when the man was originally planning to get a hotel--
and when he's not even here.
Then it hit me.
He wants to make sure his father knows how successful he is.
The boys have all pretty much forgiven him, in their own way--
let it go, but not really let him in.
None of them really care about him, and they shouldn't.
so that's why I made sure everything was just right.
Not to be a good host, and make sure my guest was comfortable,
but to be a good wife and make sure my awesome husband's shitty father knows...
knows what?
Knows that we're good enough?
I dunno...I just feel like it's important.
And it's an awkward assortment of feelings.

Thanks for listening.
When I opened this page, I had planned on this coming out a little more...
ranty or funny or

But I'm hungry.
And nearly ready for bed.
something else, but what?
I'm helping a friend move tomorrow.
Cuz her friend went loony on her.
It's a wicked long story, but this time it's truly the Mormons' fault.
Or, rather, non-fuckers.

Can I tell you how much I love being able to switch my car into "manual" mode whenever I feel like it?
Fucking rocks.
I have missed driving stick.
It's a little weird without the clutch, but soooo fun.

Has anyone seen the show, "What about Brian?"
That show is...
really bad.
The "Brian" character is cool, but the rest of the story lines are atrocious.
One of them is a couple with 3 young children and the stay-at-home mom springs this, "let's have an open marriage" thing on her unsuspecting and mostly uninterested husband.
I have never been so appalled as when they portrayed it as something she DESERVED when she finally got to fuck the dude she'd been trying to hook up with, last night.
The way they wrote that made my skin crawl.
I mean, hey, I'm up for the IDEA of open marriage as much as the next guy
(and yes, I said 'guy' on purpose),
but to portray it like that was unsettling.
I don't know.
Maybe I was just jealous.
But I don't know.
It really seemed like she was cheating.
Maybe I missed the part where her husband was enthusiastically on-board with the idea,
but I got the impression that he didn't want to do it and she was pursuing it anyway.
I don't know.
(that makes 3 times for that phrase in this paragraph...what does that tell you?)

Is it Saturday morning yet?

He's here.
And I'm juuuust fine. :)

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

...because it's nighttime, and I'm alone...

and this.
is the best time/place/way to blog.

I am supposed to go meet with my professor tomorrow to discuss my final paper,
which is due next week.
Can you say, "bleh"?
Altogether now, come on...
I probably ought to spend a little time mulling it over before I go, at least.
I'm just tired already.
This has been a busy week, and it's only getting busier.
I would rather just stay at home with my wee ones tomorrow.
...I've been looking through stacks of photos from when they were babies, over the last few days.
That is an incredible way to fall in love with some little boys who may or may not be going through a bit of a phase.
actually, that's not fair: just one of them is.
He just needs his mama to absolutely drench him in attention, that's all.
They are so self-sufficient sometimes, that I allow myself to be distracted.
But it's ok because I'm here.

The mister and I went to see "Lucky Number SLeven" on Tuesday night.
That was a fantastic movie!
See it.
Put it on your list.

Saturday we're going to a "how to host a murder" party, which should be silly fun,
but the best part is it's set in ancient Rome!
We get to dress up and we're cooking authentic food and everything.
Here's an excerpt from my character's description:
Mercedes is Flabbius Corpus (a poet)'s ravishing wife. Not since Paris fell for Helen of Troy has one woman made such an impact on one man. She is the driving force and inspiration behind the great poet's work. Friends call her a "daughter of Bacchus" (the god of revelry), for she loves the fast, wild life and throws lavish parties at every opportunity. She can often be seen tearing around in her four horse-powered chariot. Mercedes is a free-spirit with strong opinions and a flighty personality. She has also been gifted by all the muses.

Sounds like they chose the right character for me.

Oh, here's what I forgot to say this morning:
my husband's 2 week trip got rescheduled, so I'm not going to St. Louis this weekend.
I'm so glad.
And, that meant he was here for most of this week, and will be here for most of next week.
I'm sure you were all dying to know that.


Ok, I saved the post and did some stuff and now I'm back and
I have to say
the title of this post makes me smile.
because it's dark and quiet in my house.
and I just took a shower and drowned my limbs in lotion.
I feel clean and smooth and soft.
I suppose that makes me wish for a pair of larger, hairier hands than the ones I have.

I just watched last night's american idol.
that spread-on-some-toast Chris was singing a song.
that "if you really love a woman" song.
is it bryan adams?
anyway, I had a cute little moment where I realized how much my husband loves me.

and now I'm going to watch some more crappy tv and fall asleep happy.

I wish I had something to write

but I don't.
I'm actively not writing.
I'm unwriting.
I'm anti-writing.
full of shit.

I woke with a start this morning,
as the awareness hit me:
kids are having a friend over after school.
Oh yeah!
Good thing I remembered, eh?
I would have left him there and that would be the end of THAT playdate companion!
His mom saved my ass on Monday, though.
She took the boys home with her so that I could go to my interview.
I took her some flowers yesterday as a thank you,
and we lamented the fact that our husbands never indulge in this little treat.
I can hardly complain, at this point, but it really is a beautiful gesture.
Do I want a $50 bouquet of roses?
fuck no.
This is a case where it's the thought behind it that counts, not the extravagence.
Just a simple, wild flower bouquet would make my heart burst.
But it's ok, I'm not complaining, just observing.
That's what every nag says, isn't it?
I wasn't telling you to take out the trash, just noticing it hadn't been done in a few days and flies are starting to gather.

Ok, enough of that.
I have my first play to go see.
I am excited.
et cetera.

My car still makes my heart flutter.

I had something to say...
but I don't remember what it was.
I need to go shower, or I'll be picking up kids in my pjs.
Not cool, Lisa, not cool.

New exercise up, on What If?

Have a good day and give a good day.
or some good head...

Tuesday, April 25, 2006



Sorry, I'm kind of out of it today.
My head is in other clouds and my feet are craving moss-covered forest floors...

Yesterday was one of the greatest days of my life.
I know that sounds silly, but...
the experience I will gain from this job, as a real
staff writer(!!!)
for the school paper
will be very valuable.
I am ecstatic, if a little nervous.

And then there is the matter of my new car!
I am not a materialistic person, I'm really not.
This vehicle is my soul mate.
It really is.
I will not speak of our intimate bond,
I will only say that it is a beautiful machine with excellent crash test ratings.
...and it has leather and all-wheel-drive and geartronics and a sunroof and an actual car phone (which I have no reason to activate, but STILL! there's a receiver in the headrest!)
Oh, and did I mention it handles like a sports car?
My XC70 and I are going to have a lovely honeymoon.

Did you know I have never been so fully in control of my own vehicle purchase befor?
I chose the EXACT one I wanted.
I feel somehow very free because of this.
And very humbled.
No more bitching about hubby being a more rolling my eyes at Warcraft.
hee heee.
I think I'll have to find something new to bitch about, eh?

I can't believe I got so far behind on my comments from yesterday...
I'll cruise through them and do my best to answer, so don't feel bad if I skip you;
I have read them all.

This morning I took my final exam.
I still have to turn in a paper by next Tuesday, but then I'm FINISHED!!!
praise the jeebus.

So here are the details on my job:
--one article per week is all that's expected of me,
--but I may turn in as many as I want
--I am on Theater detail, so I'll get to go to plays!
--only 2 issues per week during the summer, as opposed to 5 during the regular school year
--my editor is going to France for a study abroad next month.
fuck him.
Ok, not really...I'm just so jealous.
Anyway, when I turn in articles I'll have to physically deliver them, so we can do a side-by-side edit--he (or the other editor) will read through it and give me immediate suggestions for improvement, then I'll rewrite and we'll give it to the copy editor who will give it to the proofreader.
(I would be in a state of perpetual orgasm if I was a proofreader, but this will be more betterer.)
So that's the process.
I imagine D-man already knew that, and he better believe I'll be hitting him up for advice when I get into this thing a bit.
He is a seasoned journalist--
I'm thinking just a light dusting of salt and pepper would do, but maybe some fresh garlic would be a nice touch.
Oh, it's not as if I'm the only one who thinks of food and/or sex on a full-time basis!!

I think I'll catch up on my blog reading,
then head to the gym.
tonight is the kids' school carnival.
Should be fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun!!

Monday, April 24, 2006

this is an audio post - click to play

Long and lovely was this day.

And now we're watching The Dark Crystal.
Makes me smile just to say it.
I loved this movie.

I have an amazingly busy day ahead (Monday)
so I think I'll leave you with a favorite post from this day last year.
(well, it's from the 25th, but that was a monday, so close enough)

Happy Stutter Day***
verbally, as well as phsically, a stutter-filled day.
good-ish workout.
sort of "bleh", really.
saw someone I used to work with.
imagined saying "hi", but didn't.
remembered the funny jokes,
his girlfriend and her pierced tongue,
their shared history of addiction and NA--
her relapse.
he looked well, and I remembered his kids would be
teenagers, all.
and I didn't really mind not saying 'hi',
even though I usually love running into old friends.
I guess maybe I've finally learned to let go--
of the casual friends, at least.
then I caught a glimpse of green arms--
intricate ink, so alive and bright.
I caught my breath, and pushed my eyes to the attached face.
and looked away quickly,
very familiar,
and yet much taller and thinner--
and in entirely the wrong state.
he noticed me noticing him--
out of the corners of my eyes, and through lowered lashes.
he kept himself in my line of vision,
on purpose?
I can't help what my mind shows me,
tells me--
feeds me.
I imagined him.
naked in his long skininess,
and how hot the heat between us might be.
or might not, realistically.
but the playroom chick came to get me.
they didn't believe me that twin B has allergies,
and insisted that if it was pink eye he had to leave.
it's not.
but whatever.
I was almost done.
with my workout...
it was a jarring return to reality, however.
and as the boys selected their candy from the machine,
sexy beanpole walked out the front door.
we were just behind him.
as I turned to buckle a child in a seat--
my eyes fell on his,
in his car, the next row over.
he watched me smile down at my child,
then drove away...

we live life in moments.
hundreds of thousands--
of moments, all piled together.
sometimes there is a tangible space between moments,
sometimes moments overlap furiously, breathlessly,
or intertwine--
each moment still precious as its own entity,
but enhanced by those moments around it.

I've lost myself.
I think I'm riding shotgun, in the dusty cab of a big rig.
across the ocean.
I hope I'm not changing stations on your favorite songs,
or falling asleep when you need my conversation to prop your own lids open.
I am being lulled by that growling rumbling beast of an engine,
the smell of diesel permeates my clothes and hair--
but you could still taste roses on the skin just beneath my ear.
and sitting across from me in a diner, at 4 in the morning we would laugh,
and fight over the ketchup that neither of us uses.
to run the back of my hand across the night's stubble on your chin--
a thousand days of summer, I would trade.
yeah, I miss ya.
yeah, I pout like a little girl when I realize others miss you, too.
they don't have as much to miss as I do, I remind myself gently.
and you'll be done with all that, soon...?
ugly word, in all its vague splendor.
soon should mean tomorrow--
next week, at least...
hey, no one ever accused me of being patient.
or having too little passion,
or dreaming too briefly, too narrowly, too monochromatically.
and that is as it should be.
I love that we each have our own set of standards...
even if I'm the only one who's right.
I will go now.
since no one's commenting these past few days anyway.
ya lazy fucks.

*** is it just me, or does "Stutter" look most deliciously like, "Slutter"?

Ok.....wish me luck with the interview and the car...

Saturday, April 22, 2006

I think I have a zit

...but I'm not sure.
It doesn't really matter what it is.
It's small and red and on the underside of my mandible.
My chin doesn't mind.

I am



I spent the day with my best friend.
I helped her shop for (and rationalize) a new apartment,
she helped me shop for (and test drive) a new car.
I hope we both get what we want.
It's sitting in the driveway,
and I keep looking out the window at it, picking my way through hubby's rubble
(his side of the bed is HIS business. I only diffuse his chaos once a week or so.)
I fucked up my punctuation...I hate that.
I'm not fixing it, so I guess we'll all just have to take a nice big mouthful of "deal with it", eh?
the car is lovely.
It's a Volvo, like I've been talking about.
They insisted that I take it for the weekend, cuz they think they can win me that way.
They don't know my husband.
He's neither easily courted, nor won.
No worries.
I'm driving another one tomorrow, by appointment.
A year older, but with 10k fewer miles.
And a smaller price tag.
Eh, we'll see.
And did I mention how fucking fantastic it feels?
Great power, smooooth.
Pictures will follow.
Oooo...just remembered the motorcycle I took a picture of.
It was standing in the shade of a big, old, heavy tree.
It was new and crisp and shiny and...proud.
I wanted to slither across the seat, and around the sparkling exhaust pipes,
over the handlebars and around the swelling of the gas tank.
But, ya know.
I didn't.
Vertebrates have no fun.

We ate outside, at a wonderful Greek place...
the day was exquisite, like a ziplocked
portrait of a perfect day.
and that includes the men and their
rumbling, roaring,
The sun kissed me softly today, like a mama to her baby.
We drove with the top down on her Saaaaaaaaab--
the first time this season.
It felt like summer, like home, like a day at the


I miss the beach.

Wish me luck with the car, ok?
I am officially in charge of the negotiations.
I mewed a small protest,
relish the chance for this car to be
My choice, my momentum driving its acquisition, my actions.

So we'll see.

I mopped the fuck out of my floor today.
Well, not precisely.
I mopped the entire main floor of my home,
working up quite a good pulse,
then went upstairs to wait for the tile to dry and kept my heart racing.
I really give great head.
Sometimes I forget.
...but hubby doesn't.

I think I'll go take the car to the store.
I need...
Or something.
It has a sunroof and Yield is harbored within the dash, ready to pour out at me.

Wait, one more thing:
instead of going back to bed this morning,
I went for a run.
A good long one (long for me, at least).
And then I cleaned the house.



Ok. Goodnight, my darling little Herbies.
( bugs...get it? haaaaaaaaa!)

Thursday, April 20, 2006

I noticed today

that it has been way too long since I've written a real post.
right now, I have to pee.
and my mouth is dry.
And I'm hungry(sorta).
and my muscles are tired from working out and tired from having a cold.
So I should go and take care of some of those issues before I actually attempt to amuse or
entertain or
enlighten (ha!) or
illate you.
double ha.

Ok...I will.

I am back.
Well that was just a whole truck fulla fun.

Actually, I'm also realizing that my mirth is missing.
I am mirthless.
I have been de-mirthed.
It's ok, I think.
I would just like to apologize for not being very interesting.
But I'm not going to.
see, that was a joke!
I'm like, back or something.

I'm holding my breath...
I might start an actual JOB soon.
It's sort of nothing, but sort of big.
I say that a lot, don't I?
It's just that (my boys say that a lot...I should cut back. sorry, end of interuption.)
I forgot my
I lost my train of thought.
That's what happened to my head.
OK, so.
The job is fairly inconsequential on some levels,
and will hopefully be minimal hours (yes, I'm still lazy!),
it's a step.
My university's newspaper needs writers.
I am perfect for it.
But, you holds expectations, and that's never good.
So on Monday I'll have an interview, but I think it's a formality.
Maybe not.
There are probably people who actually need the job for the money,
and that's certainly a better motivator than "I want practice for bigger and better things."
I used to be the best employee on the PLANET.
but then I got talked into this whole housewife shctick and, I dunno...
it's kinda nice having no one to answer to, nowhere to be.
expectations make me queasy, when viewed from a distance.
It's ok.
it's a tiny little paper for a big university.
but it'll look good on a resume...and teach me some things.

busy week coming up.

people, places, things...
nouns rock.
ok, not really.
they mostly just exist.

I suddenly feel like Michael Scott from The Office.

maybe that's because it's the episode where he procrastinates his work...
and I can relate to that.
I don't suck like he does.
I suck in a much more pleasing manner.
this was supposed to be a fun post.
It isn't.

I'm really excited about the job prospect.

I think I'm just pouting.
Because mr. husband is cruising into hour 4 of god damned mother fucking World of Warcraft.
I don't begrudge him his leisure, I really don't.
It's just that...
he is so focused on it.
and I'm like a spoiled child...
all I want is for him to.
ok, fuck this.
I'm not doing this here.

I'm going to watch this rerun of one of my favorite 4400 episodes and go to sleep.

A Day at the park.

Maybe more like an afternoon...pining for you. heh. this sucks. typing like this

this is an audio post - click to play

Wednesday, April 19, 2006


I don't see anything.
Ok, fine, I see the ad.
So I finally caved to the pressure of that website which claims that MY blog is worth $50,000.
I, of course, do not believe that figure--
or even know what the hell it means.
I sorta figured, what the fuck.
Why not?
I'll give it a month.
So, click, click, CLICK away, my dear ones!
Because every penny I earn from that (and I do believe it's important to count in pennies...) is going towards my tummy tuck.
And when I have that aspect of my pre-child-bearing body BACK--
oh yes, there will be pictures.
Lots of nude-type ones.

Anyway, whatever.
Go ahead and give me shit if you want.
It's an experiment I'm conducting and I'll not be swayed.
You could start bets on how little I'll actually earn, if you want.
Like guessing how many jelly beans are in a jar...
you know, stuff like that.
I'm not telling which one of those is my guess.

I have a cold.
Which is a retarded name for an illness.
I think we should be calling fevers "a hot".
I woke up with a hot, and the pukes, so I won't be in to work today.
Although...that could really mean "I got drunk at the Chip N Dales show, and there's an oily man in my bed."

In related news...
If I don't go to the gym today--
kill me.
Thank you.

Things to do.
More later.

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Braless Tuesday

Can you see?
Can you tell?
What I'm doing,
with my shirt.
I want a mouth
a hand...

And I'm a vampire.
It's true.
Go see.
This man is my writing hero.
He reminds me every day that it can be done.
My copy of The Spontaneous Manifesto arrived a few days ago,
and I've been browsing the stories.
Many of them familiar, but not all.
Each one is like a smooth stone or a seashell found on the sand--
each one is exquisite and unique and solid.
each one was delivered from his skull by way of his fingers on a keyboard,
and that.
That astounds me.
Inspires me.


Here's the story I did for the writing exercise on What If?,
since I bet at least half of you are as lazy as I am and don't click on links.
because heaven forbid I write something and not shove it in your faces, panting after approval or coddling or whatever.
Oh, I'm not that disgusted with myself, don't worry.
(I would put a smiley here, but they don't work, so just pretend...)

Hey, and while you're at it, have a happy day.

The assignment was to take a news headline and write a story based on it.

There was a news story last night about a 19 year-old man (boy) who had just shot and killed two registered sex offenders, then when he was cornered by police, shot himself. He was only in critical condition, so I look forward to hearing more of this. As the reporter spoke, my mind churned: had either of those men abused him or someone he knew? Or was he just playing vigilante? Ok, this probably gives away any direction I could take with the story, but here goes.

His heart beat like a thousand drums, echoing through his body and filling his ears. His breath hung smokily in the air in front of him, threatening to settle on the pane of glass and give him away. He was ready. It was time. But he couldn’t move just yet. As the grey-haired, flannel shirted man sat heavily in his recliner, the boy stood up. He crossed himself and squeezed his eyes tight briefly, one name going through his mind like a flood, now that he was moving.

Around the side of the house, up four steps, through the back door. He was careful to open it slowly and keep the handle turned until he had placed it back in its closed position. His hands were sure and firm, his mind was blank and he walked as with blinders on: steadily forward, eyes on the prize. Through the kitchen, down a narrow hall and—

There he was. The man. The monster, in the flesh. He looked up from his TV dinner without surprise and met the young man’s gaze.

"Three years? Do you think that was enough for what you did to my sister?" His shaking voice rose as he spoke, so that by the last word he was almost shrieking, his fury threatening to overtake him.

A mirthless smile crawled across the man’s face. He slowly licked his lips.

"That little slut was worth every minute behind bars. Have you ever tasted a 12 year-old? Mmmm---"

The bullet ripped through his pursed lips and spread apart the bones of his face. Jeff saw this in slow motion, feeling his own heart soar at the moment the beast before him was ended. He hadn’t thought about how precise it could be, this removal of life; he had pictured more shots, more twitching, more flailing. This was better. It was clean. And it was magical…for the first time since that day, the day she finally couldn’t take it anymore and risked her life by telling her secret, the hole that was rent in their world began to close up a little.

Jeff stuck the gun under the waistband of his jeans, his jacket hiding it completely, and slipped back out the way he came. As he walked through the crisp night air, his breathing slowly returned to normal, and his thoughts cleared. He had never been so proud of anything in his whole life. A lone tear crossed his cheek and he didn’t bother brushing it away—he just smiled broadly and sighed. It was as he walked home from the former school principal’s house that an idea began to grow inside him. The registry. The one where he had found this vermin’s address. Yes. He remembered how long that list was, how many of those men where in the same category as this one—and that was just in his town. He looked at his watch, and quickened his pace to a jog. If he worked fast, he could get through that list tonight, and be in Canada by noon. They wouldn’t know who to suspect, with so many victims between all his prey. He let out a short laugh and ran faster.

Monday, April 17, 2006

Better late than never, right?

Yup, that's my motto.
And then there are the times when I would say, "eh, fuck it. it's too late."
But this isn't one of those times.
I finally did my piece for the writing exercise on What if?,
which was due Friday.
Let's pretend I was out of town.
Or out of luck.
...out of Africa?
Or something.
You should all go check out the pieces that everyone did--
and join in for next time, if you're interested!

I had a really good (and much needed) talk with Sir husband last night.
Short and to the point, but very satisfying.
(Which only had the latter in common with the sex it led to. heh.)
The conversation was about my anxiety over this supposed writing career I always yammer about wanting, and haven't done SQUAT about for months.
He gave me some great advice and reminded me of how much he supports me.
I think I use him as an excuse not to, if he's here, I have decided that he needs my undivided attention, which means I can't write, but then I end up feeling neglected because he's busy doing other stuff anyway, and I'm just sitting around waiting for some attention.
This is SO not me, but winter and melancholy breed very ugly babies, so that's just what happens sometimes.
I'll roll with it.
I hereby make a pledge to take seriously the one non-lethal thing in my life about which I am passionate.
Ok, food and boys are not technically lethal, but I imagine it's obvious that they both have some pretty serious repurcussions when indulged in inappropriately.
Speaking of which, yesterday was Chocolate Day, in our house.
Yes, there was the eating, but also I had a boy with a cold who wanted to lay in bed and watch a movie with me.
Without thinking about the broader rammifications, just thinking it's one of the few movies of the boys' that I would enjoy watching, I suggested Charlie & the Chocolate Factory.
About halfway through, the irony of it dawned on me and I Snickered.
...some people watch The Passion, or The Ten Commandments...
I was watching a movie that embodied the true theme of the day!!!!!
I am going to hell.

One week from tomorrow is my final exam for English,
and I have a paper due the day after I get back from St. Louis,
and then...
I am officially on SUMMER VACATION!!!!
Too bad our pool doesn't open until June first.
I can't complain too much, since we HAVE a pool.
Have I mentioned lately how much I love this house/neighborhood?
We even have tennis courts, if I could find someone to play with.
(and if I knew where my racket was...and if I could play well enough for it to be worth my time...and...and...)

Crazy fucking weather here.
Yesterday was really warm (in the 70s), but you couldn't tell because the wind was so strong.
Today it's snowing.

Ok, that's enough rambling.
There are showers to be taken and Yahtzees to be played!
Ok, really just one shower and one Yahtzee, but it felt better with plurals.
(doesn't everything?)

Happy Monday-with-a-sugar-hangover--

Saturday, April 15, 2006

Despite the all-night rain...

We had a very successful Easter Egg Hunt!
...although technically it was more of a "gathering" than a "hunting"...
I mean...a wide open field, with eggs scattered throughout.
A flat field.
A bush-less field.
A rock-less field.
A HIDING PLACE-less goddamn field.
We never found jesus, either.
Which is odd, considering the marked absence of hiding places.
Perhaps it means...
but no, I can't even say it.
I need to change the subject before I get struck by lightening...
The one and only "good" thing about having a child with a severe peanut allergy is this:
Mama scores the peanut butter cups and butterfinger eggs.
Oooooh, yeah.

Seriously, it was a good time.

Yesterday...I made 6 batches of strawberry freezer jam.
If you've never tasted this stuff, you should probably just kill yourself, because your life isn't worth living
I know it sound harsh, but that's just how good this stuff is.
And it's easy to make.
...and did I mention how yummy it is??
Yeah, I guess I did.

Time to focus on the Best of Talk Soup.
E Channel.
Turn it on.
Or me.


I forgot my big news!
Hubby got home from a 6 day trip Thursday night.
Friday morning he got word that Budweis*r requires his services.
They have 3 months of time purchased, but we're holding out hope that he isn't going to be the one doing all of it...
The first stint is 2 weeks, and the big news is that I'm flying to St. Louis for the weekend in the middle of those 2 weeks!
I'm excited.
I'm sure there are plenty of cool things to do there, but at the very least, there is BEER.
I love going to new places, and getting out of my routine.
So there.

Thursday, April 13, 2006

Shit, piss, fuck!!!!

I just realized I haven't done my writing exercise yet!!
I always think I'm going to have so much free time when mr. husband is out of town,
but I always end up doing all sorts of nothing, instead.
Oh, and hanging out with my best girlfriends, of course.
But anyway...I will write it when I'm finished here.
I am so annoyed with myself.

I did, however, hear on the radio yesterday that DCFS made a call to the Spears/Federline residence to check out the baby droppage.
That sorta made my day, in a twisted way.

My kids are on spring break.
I tried to convey to them the pressing matter of partying,
but they seemed unmoved.
We need to go to the beach!
Pick up chicks!
Come on!!!!!

They just giggled at mom's obvious state of agitation and said, "So...we don't have school tomorrow and today's not Friday?"
Don't they know it's time to GROW UP???
...just kidding.
I am personally ecstatic about their lack of school (and my own--did you notice it's Thursday and I'm not at school?? ...of course you didn't, and I wouldn't expect you to. That's ridiculously egocentric of me.) because that means I don't have to get up and get them ready and on a bus by seven thirty damn six in the morning.
God DAMMMMMMIT, but I hate mornings.

The weather seems to be in a cooperative mood, so that's nice.
It is blue sky central.
I wish the weather could stay like this forever...
(did you hear that, Summer? YOU can go fuck yourself. I don't want ya.)
We might zip down to zion next weekend.

I'm currently trying to weasel Mr. sweet husband into letting me go home this summer.
I know it's a lot to ask...France has barely been washed off my skin, and I have a bouquet of travel fanned out before me, but...
I haven't been home in 2 years.
And that strikes me with a little wave of homesickness, like a bird flying into a window...

So my (goddamn, motherfucking) mother-in-law has been telling the kids all about the jeebus.
And they are CONVINCED that he'll bring them back to life when they die., should resurrection be REAL, it does not work like that.
They refuse to believe me.
Now my kids aren't afraid of dying. am I supposed to make them obey me, now????
But still.
That is most assuredly NOT COOL.
It's not that I don't belive in the basics of Christianity, etc, but she should not be teaching MY kids HER beliefs.
My job, lady, MY JOB.

There is a new blog that you all ought to check out.
Besides the fact that it's a good read, there is another reason why.
Go check it out, and see if you can figure out my connection to this blogger.

Have a happy Thursday and don't forget to flush/brush/crush.

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

I'm lost in my own house.

I can't remember how to get to my office from the kitchen.
Is it a right, and then up the stairs?
Or is it a left and then down the stairs?
Ok, I'm lying.
But when I was in college, I lived in a 3 bedroom/2 bathroom place with the allotted 5 other girls, and we used to joke that our place was so big "there are some rooms I don't even go to most days!"
...those rooms being the one bathroom not designated for that person's use and the bedroom of the weird girls.
No, not weird, like THAT.
This was BYU.
If they had been "that" kind of weird, we would have had to have them burned at the stake.
sorry, mormon joke.

I think I really need to start a file of "crazy shit my trainer says to me".
Or possibly it would be more fitting to call it "inappropriate shit my trainer says to me(which would probably turn me on if it wasn't so REAL.)"
yes, you heard me.
real does nothing for me.
As in, I would never/could never talk to a real live person the way that I may or may not flirt with on-line folks.
So anyway...
Today I showed up with my hair still drying, and as I sat on the bench and he took his place behind me, he grabbed a handful of it and muttered something like:
spank me, yank me, tie me up.
I am NOT exaggerating or joking or projecting here, I promise.
So I just blushed and said, "How well do you know me??"

I had to pick up my kids as soon as our session was over (from school),
so I went back a little later and did...
60 whole minutes of good cardio.
God DAMN that feels good.
I really do work out as a trade off for eating desserts...
It's working out ok, but still.
Seems kind of silly.

I have nothing more to say
but I did clean my bathrooms and that counts for something.
Off to the playground with the tornado children.

Edit : 11:33 pm MST

I can't believe I forgot this!!!
A few weeks ago, when we had a wonderful dinner with some fantastic friends--
I experienced for the first time--and LOVED--not only raw oysters, but CIGARS!
I had never smoked one before, and it really was a pleasant experience.
I loved it, in fact.
...and did I mention that I loved it??
It's going to be my new hobby.
Until I forget, or get distracted.
Yes, there will be pictures, you dirty dirty pervs.

That's all.

Good night.

no, wait, that's not all.
I had a great conversation with my best friend tonight.
and a lovely bottle of wine.
and dinner.
but not necessarily in that order.

if Hubby was here right now,
then I would say that all is right in the world.
pretty damn close, at least.

wow, that was freaky.
no sooner had I typed that sentence, than the little ones both stumbled squintingly into my room.

housewife out.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Will take more later

Just a smile

Sunburn, baby burrrrrrn!

Ta da--braless and stuff

So I sent these all from my phone earlier, and I know they all got sent because my phone confirmed it,
only the top one showed up.
So I resent.
No big whoop.

What a grey and silly day it is.
I keep digging into the bucket of soil in my chest cavity and trying to find...
the answers.
The reasons.
The solution to the riddle of me.
But there are no answers, and reason is always lacking,
so the riddle remains a twisted lump of angst and elation,
with limbs crooked and pointing off in all directions.
I should just kill the poor mutant thing...
but it's in a coma, at least.
Do I even know what I want?
Fuck no.

How's that for some deep thoughts, eh?

Tuesdays are for...

pretending you don't wear a bra.
Hell, even I don't go braless on Tuesdays anymore.
Do you KNOW what that would do to the college boys??
It would scar them for life.
Poor little children.
So I shan't.

This reminds me--
(because my mind wanders far, fast)
that I need to try to stop getting so caught up in my fantasies.
It's as if I reach a point of wanting that finally boils over.
and now my train of thought is being hijacked by somebody on Jay Leno,
and the thighs of his dancers...
they look so soft.
He is beautiful.
Reminds me of a very lightly black version of a pretty hippie boy I had once.
Naw, I never really possessed him...I don't think he even possessed himself.

and now I'm sleepy.
had a nice long soak in the tub,
and now I want to sleep.
Even if I did go back to bed after scuttling the kidlets onto the bus...
still tired.
what a waste of a day.
Lots of sitting.
Little doing.
tomorrow I'm back in business.
an evening appointment.

this was a post of dust bunnies and empty shoe boxes stacked on shelves.
sorry for that.
the picture.
too sleepy....
will look for one.
oh yeah...I'm on my laptop.
pictures are on other puter.
maybe I'll take one with my phone and send it in.
have a great idea for one, actually.
I'm full of empty promises lately.
fucking hate that.

Monday, April 10, 2006

A Little Less Conversation, a Little More Action please

Ok, actually I'm going for a little less conversation,
a little more useless info please.
but that doesn't have quite the same ring to it.

I deftly theiverized this fun little questionaire from Chris's blog.
And again, I'll exhort you: READ HIS NOVEL. Now.
Well...when you've finished reading this.

1. Last kiss? Gah. Don't ask me that.

2. How do you flush the toilet in public? with my foot.

3. Do you wear your seatbelt in the car? always.

4. Do you have a crush on someone? always.

5. Name one thing that you start to get tense about if you are close to running out of it: conditioner

6. What famous person do you (or other people) think you resemble? No one I can think of.

7. Favorite pizza topping: pineapple. by itself.

8. Finish this sentence: if my life was a sitcom my theme song would be... Some bastard love child of the Cheers and Friends theme songs.

9. Do you pop your knuckles? hell no

10. What song do you dislike the most when it gets stuck in your head? One I don't know very many words to, although they say that's the most common kind to get stuck--that's why it gets stuck.

11. Did just mentioning that song make it get stuck in your head?, because I didn't mention one. Why? because I'm stealthy like that. I knew it would stay in my head if I dared to whisper its demonic name...

12. What are your super powers? I can fly, and read minds. Ok, seriously, I am invincible. Try me.

13. Peppermint or spearmint? Peppermint

14. Where are your keys? in my purse, which is kept in the cupboard next to my fridge. want my address??

15. Who's answers to this questionnaire do you want to hear? anyone and everyone

16. What's your most annoying habit? Puh-leeez. I don't have any.

17. Where did you last go on vacation? France.

18. If you could punch one person in the nose and get away with it, who would it be? The one friend who has ever turned against me for no reason (the only person who has ever purposely hurt me, in fact.)

19. What is your best physical feature? Just one?? hee. I'm sure some of you would vote for the chest region, but I'm going to say hair.

20. What CD is closest to you right now? I think there are some windows xp install cds in hubby's nightstand, and there's a metallica concert DVD in the armoire, but those probably don't count. Hm...if we pretend I'm sitting at my desk, the nearest CD would be Bud Buckley's album for which I promised to write reviews and feel guilty for not having done so every time I see it...

21. What 3 things can always be found in your refrigerator? Viva Skim Delight milk, eggs, goood deli turkey...and about 40 other things--I'm a fucking HOUSEWIFE, people! It's my job to have a well-stocked fridge-ola.

22. What superstition do you believe/practice? Karma, mostly. And I have a strong track record of jinxing myself if I mention something that could be construed as bragging, like, "my kids never get sick" (they always end up sick after that).

Someone deleted 23 and 24, so I'm going to make up new ones!

23. Does size matter? Of course not. It's all technique, baby! (of course, this from a girl who's always had well-sized partners, hubby included)

25. Do you talk on your cell phone when you drive? Yup. I'm very good at it, too. Studies, schmudies--I'm a queen multi-tasker, always have been. I can do 3 things at once and do them well.

26. What are your favorite sayings? I don't know, you tell me. "fuck off", maybe? Or..."damn mormons".

27. What song(s) do you sing most often in the shower? What kind of a question is this? I go into the shower to get clean and/or masturbate, not shatter the eardrums of half my city.

28. If you could go back or forward in time would you and where would you go? I would definitely go. And I would go backwards...most likely to my first love, to screw his brains out. I know it sounds silly, but if we're talking about regrets, I don't really have any except this. It just seems like such a waste of great chemistry, you know?? Besides, poor boy loved me for 2.5 years without so much as a handjob. It seems borderline criminal.

29. What is your favorite Harrison Ford movie? Eh. Indiana Jones trilogy.

30. What CD is in your stereo? there isn't one.

31. What OCD qualities do you have? hm...I have mentioned this before: I am compelled to make certain sound combinations with my mouth at times.

32. how many kids do you plan on having? The two I have are awesome--and plenty.

33. If you could kiss anyone famous who would it be? Eddie Vedder.

34. Would you really want to kiss someone you didn't know? I have done so, and found it sometimes less thrilling and sometimes more thrilling.

35. What do you do when no one is watching? Is there ever a time when no one's watching? siiiigh. Ok, that was depressing. I guess there are times when I'm alone. Um. nothing worth noting, I guess.

36. If they made a movie about your life, what actor/actress would play you? Jennifer Aniston. What? I didn't say she looks anything like me! she's just one of the few on my list of celebrities who don't disgust me.

37. Would you rather die in a blaze of glory or peacefully in your sleep? Blaze of glory.

38. What candy, from when you were a kid, do you miss the most? I can't think of any candy that I loved then and can't/don't have now.

39. what is your favorite movie? Little Miss Sunshine. (best ever)

40. Favorite musician(s)/bands you've seen in concert? Pearl Jam, Page-Plant, Kate's Dream, Metallica/Godsmack.

41. Have you ever been in love? What a retarded question THAT is. Of course I've been in love. Who hasn't??? bah. I'm feeling cynical today, can you tell? Yes. I've been in love. Wouldn't it be better to ask how many times, or which one was the deepest, or most shattering, or most memorable, or longest lasting, or least requited??? fucking questionaire. I think I might need to break into the easter bunny's supplies, for PMS may be at hand...

42. Do you talk to yourself? Nope. Not out loud, at least. I ramble along in my head, and on this page, though.

43. Is there anybody you just wish would fall of the face off the earth? Nope.

I hope you're all having yourselves a lovely day.
Do this questionaire if you dare.

Back to bed

Yes, I think it's one of those days.

But in the meantime, check out the new writing blog I'm part of--

What if...?

Everyone is invited to participate in the writing exercises we'll be doing there,
and if you want to become a member, you just need to email tootsie roll and she will add you.

It was a beautiful weekend from start to finish.
Walks and playgrounds and conversations.

Like I said: back to bed for me.
check out the writing site and have a Monday that is not worthy of being labeled "a case of the".

Sunday, April 09, 2006

God FUCKING damnit!

I'm sunburned.
Like a lobster after its allotted time in the pot of boiling water and salt.
That was the fly in my vaseline today, but other wise...
smooooth as...vaseline.
The hot springs ended up getting overruled by the abundance of snow in the mountains containing them.
Not a problem.
Lunch with Becky, walking and walking and walking
in Provo Canyon with Jasmine,
and then home for some of that one thing I like to talk about so much.
Gorgeous and invigorating, from start to finish.

There were a few times when I almost stopped my car in the middle of the road.
It was painful not to--
my heart was slung around the back tire of a motorcycle and it's not as stretchy as it looks.
A herd of them, swarming along the road leading around the west side of the lake.
Utah Lake is huge, and there's not much on the west side of it--
some low mountains that like to spontaneously combust every summer,
and a new housing development, which arrived sometime since y2k.
It is far, far away from everything.
The jutting, impressive east mountains sprawl across your field of vision, lake, or mud, but it's beautiful.
It's a long drive.
A freeeeeeeeeeeee/wheeeeeeeeeee drive.
It seriously almost caused me physical pain to stay in my car.
I thought...hmm...if I stop my car and wave them down...what are the chances it would be someone cool, someone young, someone silent and sexy?
Either much too high or much too low, depending on how you look at it.
I will have a Harley some day.
I will.

There was a puppy, on the walking trail, with its owners,
but I wanted to grab that tiiiiny black lab and stuff him under my shirt and run.
I think today was a day of wanting...
A day of wishing for everything and being gloriously happy anyway.

I have a confession to make, though...
I purposely pretended to not notice that I had cut in front of a couple of faggy BYU families.
I cannot stress how much I loathe this particular category of clueless zombie fucks.
If I could tell them one thing, besides "die motherfuckers", it would be:
Ok, maybe out of respect, I would leave that last part off...
It's only 4 years.
If you don't get married during your first semester, it's even less of a wait to have the sweet widdoo babies.
I mean, shit.
I understand the urge to fuck like energizer bunnies once you're finally granted access, trust me.
but you could PROBABLY use birth control until you're full time earners instead of full time students.
I think it's their attitudes that are most vexing, but I'll stop here.

Ok, maybe I'm just jealous that I went there and didn't get to get married and knocked up.
Maybe I'm just pissed off that they get to have their babies one at a time, so they don't realize how hard it is until they're 2 or 3 into it.
Or maybe my sunburn is just highlighting the bitch in me.
Also, spending more than 2 hours in Provo has been known to cause severe pschotic breaks in lesser men, so I deserve an award.

shut up.

and then, after you're finished shutting up...could you tell me why the spousal figure is watching Utah's CRAP sports show?
Ok, maybe it's not crappy, but it IS sports.
There's a cute guy being quizzed on sports teams' originations (Jazz=New Orleans, etc) and he writes a column for...uh...a paper or something.


Did I mention how beautiful the mountains are?
And the blue sky...
a few days of spring, wedged between two solid slabs of winter.
I feel claustrophobic in here...

There's an image I can't shake.
From my rearview mirror, as we left the walking trail.
A most beautiful girl in a pink shirt.
The pink shirt keeps flashing in my mind.
And her arms.
They both stopped just below the elbow.
It was startling, juxtaposed against her soft, sweet prettiness.'s 11:11.
Make a wish, touch something red.

I think...
about you guys when I'm not here.
Probably more than I should.
In case you missed it,
I have now set up mobile blogging.
I can send pictures and text straight to this little g-spot of mine.
sorry, my "blo" fell off...
And I say "can" because I'm allowed, but as far as sending text?
I'm not terribly able.
I can't fucking type like that!!!
Partly because I would rather have proper punctuation and use ALL the letters in a word.
It makes me feel queasy to use mobile shorthand.
U R hot.
et cetera.

Ok, crazy me is going to crazy bed.
Say goodnight to her...
shit, I mean me.

Saturday, April 08, 2006


Oh, oh, what a day.
It is the day of compelling guest stars on 80s reruns.
It is a day of insanely high libidos.
It is...
a day of drinking alone, but not getting buzzed (dammit),
and a day of great hair...and Nair.
A day of motorcycles roaring by,
and sun shining.
yeah, spring came back today.
yesterday's snowstorm offered it up to us as an apology.
I took it, but my manners failed me and I still told winter to fuck off.

Adam Sandler was on a Cosby Show episode.
It was the coolest moment of the entire day.
And there were a LOT of cool moments today.
...some of them secret and quiet, some of them secret and loud...
some of them written across the sky in jet trails.

I drank a fairly pale-skinned garbage type drink tonight.
kahlua and milk.
For some reason, "coffee brandy and milk" makes me think of white trash.
I don't know why.
I think I picked it up from my first job.
I also acquired a love of tuna melts and gay cooks.
I loved that place.

now Roseanne's on.
could someone PLEASE come over here and find my remote??
...or something.
mr. husband is working late.
Or at least that's his story.

Hot springs.
I know I've talked about it before, but...
that place is as close to spiritual as it gets for me.
I feel like my heart is free there.

Oh, Roseanne!!!
"Call me old fashioned, but what's wrong with living in sin?"
her response to her daughter's teen wedding.
(this in no way serves as a condonment of that show.)

well, fuck.
I had other stuff to say, but the 90s have invaded my aural space and successfully destroyed any and all sense of poetry under my fingernails or behind my knees...

Friday, April 07, 2006

Thursday, April 06, 2006

Thursday is Fleurs day.

I feel so alive right now!
Even if the world outside looks like it's dying...
stupid snow.
It got worse after my audiopost.
The University of Utah happens to be sprawled up the side of a mountain,
so the elevation increases air temperature,
and the snow is always thicker and the roads worse.
No big whoop, just a minor sneeze in the clarity of my day.

Class was good.
I counted how many boys there are that I would definitely fuck if given the chance.
There were only 3, which is both sad and inconsequential.
There are also a couple of girls I would make out with, but I'm not sure how many.
Probably only 2,, 3.
The one girl has the world's most perfect ass.
I'm not even kidding, that thing is round and luscious like a couple of scoops of icecream.
I'm TOTALLY straight.
Shut up.
So, moving right along...
I was a little late to meet with my trainer today,
so he asked if I wanted to just work out with him instead since he was due to start his own workout as soon as our appointment ended.
We spent 90 minutes on shoulders, as a result.
Another girl joined us, shortly, and was really one of the sweetest people I've met in a long time.
Kept giving me complimets--
I'm usually too niave to be suspicious of unwarranted compliments, but I'll wait to worry about that until her background check comes back.
Anyway, so we were cruising through sets of shrugs and other assorted exercises for the 3 main muscles of the shoulders,
and dude starts rubbing my neck muscles.
"wow," he says, "you're tense. Do I still make you nervous?....cuz I'm a black man? (he chuckles, and references my attire) aw, but you like black."
I just laughed and affirmed that I do like black.
It was extremely
But I think I did a good job of pretending it wasn't.

So then I came home and had lovely conversations via the modern and terribly high-tech contraption called the "telephone" with my mother, my best friend, and my secret lover.
Ok, scratch that last one.
(no, really, he's itchy. scratch him...)

Live. live.
I live to see Live live.
Park City, tickets on sale tomorrow.
I am...about 3 miles beyond Stoked (breezed right through, actually, didn't even stop to buy the postcard.)
I have wanted to see these guys live for so long,
and somehow I have always missed them.
A couple of times in their early years I was here when they played in Boston and in Maine when they played here,
and then there were the years where I forgot I even liked was gray and tan and smudgey then...
anyway, they're coming.
And I'm nearly cumming.

I'd like to give a shout out to my own
No, wait.
My own personal graphic artiste (I said it like that so you'd think he was gay, but he's not) who has selflessly signed on to manage some of the trickier aspects of my Braless Tuesday calendar's production.
He will have to slave over the photos for hours--
possibly shunning all food and rest (but probably not drink...I mean, the man brews his own beer, fer chrissake!) until the arduous task is completed.
I really owe this guy.
He's a saint.
eh, whichever.

did anyone else notice my hormones raging across this page?
I'm like a dog in heat.

In other news...
It's going to be a fun weekend.
J and I are going to try to go to the Diamond Fork hot springs on Saturday,
and Becky and I are going to hang out (with NO ONE'S wang out, for the record) on Sunday.
Let our kids play, maybe watch a movie or something.
Just relax and pray for spring.

I think I had more to say, but my estrogen has clogged my brain.

this is an audio post - click to play

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

Hump Day is for Virginia

No, wait, Virginia is for lovers!
That's what it is.
Same thing.

I just got home from the gym, and first of all:
it was a great workout.
I feel great.
While I was there I made an important discovery.
Divorce Court is the single greatest comedy on tv today.
I suppose I shouldn't laugh at other people's pain,
but when their stupidity is the cause of their pain, it's just too easy.

How could I have been distracted from my most exciting news?
(don't answer that...we all know I need Ritalin, but that'll never happen so can it.)
Can you believe I never got around to seeing it in the theater?
I can't.
It has only been 4 or 5 months since it was first released, though,
so how could I have?
My schedule is so full, it takes a bare minimum of 6 months for me to plan for something as complex and time-consuming as seeing a film in the theater! I saw "V for Vendetta" last week...
(did I mention that already? If not: it ROCKED.)
but that's hardly the point.
Hubby pretended to be ok with seeing it, but I knew he didn't really want to.
It's a sappy love story, for starters, and the fact that the main love story does not include a woman's breasts sorta counts him out.
So anyway.
It's a grey ole day, had some lightening escort me to the doctor's office this morning, even, and it just might be the perfect afternoon for curling up in bed with a couple of hot cowboys.
I'll let you know how it goes.

Ok, so moving right along...
Yes, I went to the doctor this morning.
Half the reason was just to have my blood check for thyroid levels,
which, by the way, is getting old.
My veins have always been shittty, and they're even worse lately.
They have a full-time phlemotobist (or however you spell the word for someone trained to draw blood) and he's good.
They call him the vampire, but he's soft-spoken and soft-edged and pale in an entirely un-eery way.
He told me a story today about a heroin addict he had to draw blood from,
and they couldn't get a vein and she finally took the needle and stuck it under her tongue...
Apparently the desperation of an addict for a vein fascilitated her familiarity with such a thing.
Oh, I brought it up because he referred to my impossible veins as "tracks" and I said, "yeah, from my days as a heroin addict."
and we laughed, then I said, "...uh...I was joking."
so he followed up with his story.
In other words, "you too fat to be an addict."
the other reason I went has been reviewed by a panel and judged to be too embarassing to share here.
Well, wait...
that sounds worse than it is.
I have a friend who has lost 40 pounds with a prescription weight loss drug,
and as scared as I am of drugs in general and weight loss drugs in specific...
I was considering it.
Doc lectured me (kindly) for 20 minutes,
nearly made me cry,
and mostly made up for it by pronouncing I only have ten pounds to go.
Lying bastard.
I am the size of a house.
Ask anyone who's met me.
I am not accustomed to being the size of a house,
so it bothers me a LOT.
...make that, "a fuck of a lot".
If anyone dares to say one word about weight--whether it be positive or negative--
I will ban you from my site and send you hate mail and donuts.
the problem with having a blog like* mine is that it is impossible for me to hide my felings when I'm writing.
If something's on my mind, it spills out onto this page.
Sometimes its cryptic, and you think I'm writing a poem...
but I'm not.
I'm just describing the scenery in my head.
And sometimes, like today, I end up saying things that I should regret,
or that I wish I didn't feel or know...
it's late.
No one will read this,
and after I watch brokeback, and cheer up, I can post something befitting a restless little fantasy slut like myself.
that means I'm a slut in my dreams (and yours, har har), just so's ya know.
I feel deflated and defeated and pissed off right now.
I just wanted some help.
I just want to have my body back.
I just wanted to punch that skinny doctor right in his pokey little adam's apple.
I guess I should just face the fact that I'll never look the way I did ten years ago,
and focus on more important things.
Like the fact that I chose Paris with my Mom over a tummy tuck...
and I would make cookies with my sweet little boys every day just to see them smile...
and I love exercising; I enjoy every damn minute of it every time, so it's not like it's some great punishment for my covetous infatuation with dessert.
It could be worse.
A lot...lot worse.

I just had to get that off my chest.
I've been carrying it around all day and it was starting to get heavy.
Boy, was that awkward.
I feel so vulnerable, now.
Maybe I can get the cowboys to hold me until my tears dry.

I already regret posting this, but what the fuck--

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

Braless Tuesday, take 463

Ok, not really, but I have no idea what number we've reached.

I have a paper to start
...and finish.
So, I'm going to leave you with some links of Braless Past.

The first one to offer pictorial proof.

My favorite cowgirl shirt, featured many times.

My personal favorite.

Red tank top.

Sheer amazement.

My other favorite...

Grey shirt 2-fer, and a bonus bad attitude!

Another one...I forgot which.

There is voting going on for sexiest male blogger, somewhere around here,
if anyone's interested.
When I realized I had more than one friend on the list, I realized I couldn't play favorites...
But, go and vote for D-Man or Edge.
Both are fabulous creatures.
And I've seen one of them naked.

Monday, April 03, 2006

I think it's time for a new post...

what do you think?

I just sat, staring at the "recently updated blogs" list for several minutes.
Most of them were obvious advertisement blogs, but I did click on a couple.
they weren't really blogs, either.

Tonight is paper writing night at my house.
Well, just for me.
The 5 year olds aren't joining in the fun,
and neither is my lucky-ass husband.
I suppose bro-in-law might have some papers to write,
but the point.
is that I have a paper to write. why in the fucking
didn't I just say that??
I mean, really.
It's ridiculous.

I taught my kids "Kiss my grits" the other day...
they love it.
Max prefers, "Kiss my Brits," and I can't say that I blame him.
I only did it because they had somehow picked up "kiss my butt" from somebody...
I'm thinking it was the step son, but we're trying not to point fingers.

This is one of those posts that is like an enema.
Cleaning all the shit out, so I can start fresh.
Christ in the manger, that was disgusting!
I didn't mean it...
Don't worry, Braless Tuesday is already in the works.
If you've read this, I apologize.

fucking god damned daylight savings time.
It's as bright as noon (or at least 6pm) and I'm supposed to put my kids to bed??

Sunday, April 02, 2006


Shut up, I am.
Seriously, the coolest thing
just happened.
I have been waiting for this day for my whole life. least 3 years.
It left me giddy, and bereft of manners.
It looks like a beautiful spring day today,
so I took the kids to the playground.
It is, however, more of a cold-ass sunny day,
but whatever.
The wind was out to greet us, as well, which was good because I don't believe in hair dryers and mine was in need of some drying.
(remind me to explain the hair dryer aversion at a later date; it is completely devoid of reason, so it should be entertaining)
When the boys got bored with the jungle gyms and swings,
we headed to the walking trail for a little more wearing out of the boys/"mama needs to burn some calories after that Royale with Cheese".
As we stood and threw rocks into the little river
(they all look little to me here, sorry),
a man passing by asked if my name is Lisa.
I turned and answered affirmatively,
then he said, "I like your blog."
My eyes popped, and my jaw dropped, to which he said, "Bored Housewife, right?"
Grinning like the village idiot's slightly-smarter cousin, I nodded or grunted or something,
and as he receded, I blinked and called out, "Thank you!"
And then I stood there grinning at the trees, realizing too late that I hadn't bothered to ask his name, or whether or not he has a blog.
So, dude, if you're reading this, leave me a comment, or at least just know that I generally have better social skills than that and that I'm sorry for not being more polite.
...and that you made my day.
I was so shocked to be recognized that I wasn't able to think.
I'm pretty sure the severity of the goofy grin jarred my skull, so that synapses and neurons were not making the sweet love that they need to in order for thoughts to form.
That's my story, and I'm stickin' to it.
Like glue.
Or velcro.
Or gum to the bottom of a shoe...
Seriously, I should work for Elmer's.
I'm the queen of dead horse beating.

Oh, and while I'm here:
wine and cheese party was a smash hit.
Saw some old friends, some newish friends, and met some totally new people.
(well, that's a little misleading: they're not NEW people, just new to me...)
I also talked to the hostess about joining a writing group I've been trying to put together, and she's in.
She writes some really cool poems, but also has great editorial skills.
So, we'll see where that goes.
Wine can make promises we forget to keep.
Everyone there had babies...
it was very "aw"-inspiring...
I just wanted to gobble them all up!!

I now must go bake the rolls I pretended to make made this morning,
for the family party we're leaving for shortly.
I forgot to buy birthday presents, but we can do that on the way...
I REALLY suck at birthdays.
(especially on my husband's...hee...)
It's my Mom's birthday on Wednesday, and have I done anything about that???
She is insiting that the trip to France covers me for all future gift-giving, but I don't agree.
It was my Dad's birthday the day we got to France, and I still haven't even figured out what to get him, let alone get it in the mail.
My big English paper is due on Tuesday, so maybe after that I will get my ass in gear.
Probably not, but at least it's possible.
Reminds me, hubby said something about deadlines yesterday, and I said, "yeah...I love deadlines. I couldn't procrastinate without them!"
I was rather proud of my attempt at humor, but he wasn't listening.

Happy Daylight Savings Time, kiddos--

Saturday, April 01, 2006

My head is still spinning...

but it was a great time.
Karaoke with the girls has never failed to satisfy my in all the ways that hangovers are worth.
We had a special guest with us, an emissary from the far flung lands of byu lesbians.
We brought huuuuge sunglasses, to aid in our throaty renditions of Elton John classic hits,
and were well-recieved.
There were cowboys with pierced tongues,
and little boys who turned out to be girls.
There was way
But, like I said, it was a great time.
...isn't it always?

I've spent the day recovering, courtesy of my husband.
He took care of the kids all morning while I slept it off,
and then we watched 90s action flicks while the step son led the little guys on hide-and-seek and fort making expeditions.
I discovered that sex does, indeed, cure headaches.
(possibly re-discovered, but who can remember??)
I am now, at 5pm, getting ready to shower so we can go to a wine and cheese party at a friend's house.
I was going to make my soon-to-be-famous Tiramisu for the event, but the hangover won out.
I did, however, clean my house and feed the kids once (hubby took care of the other meals.)

Oh, the story from yesterday:
I'm glad you all liked it; I will try to write more soon.
It wasn't an angel story, although that comment about the man would have surely led me in that direction as a reader, too.
It was truly an evolutionary thing:
I started with a loose goal to write a fantasy (of the friday variety),
and when I said he looked like an angel, I was still thinking in terms of realism.
but then, somewhere in the space of a few lines, I saw the girl with translucent, chiffon, blue-purple-silver wings folded into her back.
I knew I should change the "he looked like an angel" thingy, but I didn't.
Don't know why.

I tried to talk my husband into posting as a joke, but he coudln't be torn away from his &%#&^*&^%#@@(*&!^*+ Warcraft.
Oh well.
His loss.

Happy April fool's day, anyway!
I'll have to think up some good jokes for the party...